


Call It A Christmas Gift

by victorianvirgil



Series: 12 Days of Christmas (2018) [1]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: (by the fire), Christmas, Christmas AU, First Time, M/M, Making Out, Teenagers, blowjob, hello and welcome to destroy dick december, just kidding we're doing the 12 days of christmas challenge, mistletoe au ig, no explanation but hopefully this makes up for it, sorry for not posting at all last month, virgins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-06 20:04:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16839463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/victorianvirgil/pseuds/victorianvirgil
Summary: Every Christmas Eve, the Princes' host a massive Christmas party. Adults, teenagers, and children alike come together to celebrate love, friendship, and the power of giving. Roman and Virgil, newly a couple despite having been best friends for years, experience all of the above when they find themselves alone hours after the party ended with only the crackling fire for company.





	Call It A Christmas Gift

The party at the Prince’s household was still glowing well into the night, the younger children having been put to bed at nine - after bugging their parents, they wanted to go to sleep to be closer to Christmas presents in the morning, after all - as to not bother the guests. The living room was rather large, comfortable enough for the fifty or so people to interact with one another, steal kisses beneath the mistletoe, and consume drink after drink.

The teenagers had smuggled a bottle of champagne downstairs when their parents weren’t looking, watching  _ A Christmas Story _ in the basement while wrapped up in multiple blankets each. As was tradition; the champagne bottle added only recently and managing to slip its way in for a second consecutive year.

Virgil took a swig from it, new to that tradition seeing as he had spent last Christmas elsewhere, before allowing his head to fall back onto Roman’s chest. He sighed in content when he felt the other’s fingers run through his hair, soothing and perfect, amplified by the happy humming in his head from the steady stream of alcohol that entered his system.

“Enjoying your Christmas?” Roman’s hot and heavy voice whispered into his ear. His breath reeked of alcohol but Virgil leaned into it, a smile flickering onto his lips when Roman kissed his jaw just beneath his ear. Just where he liked it, and it took what little grip he still had of himself not to release a moan in pleasure because the others might think they were doing far worse than what they actually were.

“Wouldn’t know, it’s Christmas tomorrow,” he replied, laughing softly as his boyfriend scoffed.  _ Technicalities _ , he could read in the other’s eyes,  _ you know what I mean _ .

“Yeah,” he finally said, moving a hand besides his face to rest against Roman’s chest. His solid, athletic abdomen was surprisingly comfortable, his body something Roman worked religiously on and it paid off. God, it most certainly did. Even before they started dating, Virgil had spent his years red in the face whenever Roman was without a shirt. Even more so when the articles of clothing were even fewer. “Better than last year, although that’s not hard to beat.”

Virgil had spent last Christmas with his former boyfriend, texting his best friend throughout the entire night saying he regretted it. He had always spent Christmas at the Prince’s and it was strange to do something different. So it was hardly surprising when he broke it off with his boyfriend before the new year and found his tongue between Roman’s lips as the bell struck midnight.

Roman smirked, attempting to pull Virgil back into the present by kissing the top of his head and saying, “I’m better than him, that’s it right?”

Virgil bit back his grin as he shrugged, teasingly digging his fingernails into Roman’s chest as the other slapped his shoulder in reply. “I am.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, baby.”

Roman stole the bottle back before Virgil could take another sip, chugging before passing it along. Virgil knew Roman hated it, but he would never pass up the opportunity to drink. Nor the chance to pretend to cope with Virgil’s jokes with the nearest adult beverage.

“You’re turning into an alcoholic.”

“And it’s your fault, darling,” Roman countered, a witty reply always seeming to be on his tongue. Virgil couldn’t help but tilt his head up, free hand brushing against Romans jaw before pulling him down into a quick peck.

Roman’s bright smile in reply made Virgil’s heart quite literally skip a beat, his cheeks reddening as he turned back to eye the television set. They watched the movie at least five times a year, but it was Roman’s favorite, so he dealt with it. It was cute when he looked up from time to time to see the other mouthing his favorite lines to himself, laughing softly at jokes he had heard hundreds of time.

It was worth it, every damn time.

By the time the bottle of champagne made it back to them, it was empty. Roman placed it on the ground next to the chair they were in, Virgil sure that he would forget about it and end up stepping on it in a few hours’ time, but they just snuggled back into one another silently. Around them, the breathing of their friends were beginning to steady. It was maybe another half an hour before their parents would grab them and bring them home, hopefully managing to mind their liquor to do so. Roman’s parents were good at finding a way to shuttle people home though, they managed to do it every year.

“You should stay,” Roman mumbled so softly that Virgil wasn’t entirely sure he meant to speak aloud. He did that from time to time, accidentally voicing his most feverish notions without thinking of the actual weight of his words.

But as far as said notions were, this was far from the most absurd. It wasn’t another drunken marriage proposal, at least.

“‘M sure mom will be fine with it,” he replied, waving to Logan as the other got up to leave. Their numbers were dwindling by the minute, and soon enough, it was only the two of them and Patton.

“Not sure where my dad is,” Patton said, sitting on the couch adjacent to them. But despite the couple cuddled together, he was at ease and not uncomfortable with their situation. They had been friends for countless years and Roman and Virgil, if not at least romantically involved, had always been closer to each other than the others. There was something between them that the others couldn’t come close to finding.

But seeing as they were madly in love, even if the words had never officially left either of their lips, they could hardly be blamed for that. It made sense, and luckily, Patton understood it.

“There’s no rush,” Roman insisted, his hand between Virgil’s shoulder blades and rubbing soothingly. Virgil nearly purred, holding back for Patton’s sake.

“I should be going, it’s midnight.”

The two others looked up, Virgil’s eyes furrowing. Huh, it was.

“And I’m pretty hungry. I’ll grab a snack and if I don’t come down again, assume that I got picked up.”

“Shoot me a text just so I know, but okay. And Merry Christmas, Pat.”

Patton grinned, giving them a wave. “Merry Christmas, guys. Look for your present from me under the tree.”

Before either could retaliate, sure that the gifts were thoughtful enough to make them cry, Patton slipped up the stairs, leaving Roman and Virgil alone together. The television was still humming, the only other sound besides their breaths. Two floors away from Roman’s family. Alone.

Roman pulled out his phone, typing quickly before tossing it onto the couch Patton had just occupied. Virgil raised a brow.

“Just telling my parents you’re here, and then eliminating the distraction,” Roman explained, pulling Virgil up further into his lap and pulling him in for a kiss. Heavier than the peck earlier with all the other eyes on them. Much heavier.

Virgil quickly adjusted, moving to straddle Roman’s hips and rest his ass back against his thighs as he leaned into the other’s touches. His hands cupped Roman’s cheeks, touches innocent even if the battle between their tongues was anything but.

Roman’s tongue was halfway down Virgil’s throat when his phone started ringing, Mariah Carey’s voice flooding the nearly silent basement from the vacant couch.

The two groaned as if they were one, not out of pleasure as they had a moment before, but instead, irritation.

Virgil slid out of Roman’s lap, grabbing the other’s phone and answering when he saw it was his mom. “Hey, Mrs. Prince.”

“It’s Dianne, sweetie,” she whispered, Virgil straining to hear her.

Virgil smiled, phone pressed to his ear as he remained standing. Roman raised a brow but didn’t move to take his phone back, trusting his boyfriend maybe more than he should.

“Anyway, James and I are tied up with putting the girls to in bed . . . I can’t move to-” she cut herself off, most likely because one of Roman’s younger sisters had awoken. Sensitive sleepers, the lot of them. Except for Roman, of course. He could sleep through the end of the world.

“We’ll take care of it, Mrs. Prince.”

“Make sure not to get in Santa’s way, Virge. You two stay in the basement because you know that if anyone stays awake to wait for him, he never comes,” Mrs. Prince said, Virgil hearing a gasp from the other side of the line and having to bite back his laughter.

“Yes, we’ll be careful, Mrs. Prince. Merry Christmas and goodnight.”

“Merry Christmas, Virgil.”

Virgil lowered the phone after she hung up, placing it on the coffee table and grabbing Roman’s hand to pull him to his feet. Roman’s brow was somehow still raised.

“Drop that face or else you will be stuck like that for the rest of your life,” he said.

Roman lifted their hands up and kissed Virgil’s knuckles, “That’s just an old wives’ tale.”

“Maybe so, but you and I will be spending a lot of time awake together so I would suggest putting that brow to rest.”

Roman’s lips curled into a smirk, allowing their hands to fall in favor of placing his on Virgil’s hip. He dug his fingers into his skin, stepping closer to him and glancing down. He was a few inches taller but Virgil didn’t shift under his stare or submit to him. “Never thought you’d be this forward about it, baby.”

Virgil moved to grab his boyfriend’s wrist, dropping it from his hip and hoping the other hadn’t seen the chill that was sent through him from the pet name. “Not what I meant, pervert. Your mom wants us to play Santa this year.”

“Aren’t they all in bed?” Implying that both of them would dress up as the jolly, old elf.

It was hard to believe how stupid he could be. “Yes, but we’re filling the stockings and putting the presents under the tree. And we should probably find something comfortable to wear because I’m not sleeping in jeans.”

“I know-”

“And I’m not sleeping naked, if that’s what you were about to say. Too cold.”

“So what I’m hearing is that otherwise, you totally would?”

Virgil teasingly pushed Roman’s shoulder, beckoning him to follow him to the boiler room, “Come on, dumbass. Let’s get this done so we can go to sleep.”

“I didn’t hear a no!” Roman exclaimed, flashing a grin Virgil’s way when the other looked back.

Their banter continued as they fell into a system, Virgil carrying a few presents up the stairs to hand off to Roman so he could place them beneath the tree. It took half an hour with the two of them, Roman starting the fire up again sometime during it to warm the main level of the house - his parents had turned the heating off everywhere but the upper level, and it was absolutely freezing to the point where Roman nearly yelped every time his bare feet touched the hardwood floor.

They then filled the stockings, placing them on the kitchen table - in each person’s assigned seat, of course - because they were too heavy to actually remain hoisted above the fireplace. They were cute in theory, but not entirely efficient in practice.

Roman even pulled one of Virgil’s wool socks off, placing it besides his own stocking on the table and putting a few Hershey kisses inside.

Virgil’s subconscious laughter bubbled out of him, covering his mouth in an attempt to stifle it but Roman grabbed his wrist to lower it. To hear the most beautiful sound he claimed to exist in this cruel, cruel world.

“What am I to do with you?” Virgil asked after his laughter finally died down, lacing his fingers with Roman’s and smiling up at him.

With his free hand, Roman pointed up while licking his lips, “Kiss me, I guess.”

Mistletoe, strung just above their heads.

Virgil laughed again, still-entwined hands dropping to their sides as they stepped closer. Roman’s free hand slipped under Virgil’s chin, fingers brushing his jaw before pulling him into a kiss. Sweeter than any of the others they had, passion whispering in their throats to take over, but they withheld.

Virgil’s hand moved to grip Roman’s bicep, the muscle flexing under his palm and he laughed against the other’s lips, nearly choking when Roman used the slight parting of his lips to slip his tongue inside of his mouth.

Not nearly the sweetest kiss they had that night, then.

Virgil’s hand trailed up into Roman’s hair as the other started to guide them through the kitchen, searching for a support for whatever sinful act they were to indulge in.

It was possibly the most awkward semi-sexual experience either would ever have, but they were teenage virgins and that was only to be expected.

After what felt like minutes of roaming, Virgil was pushed down onto the living room couch. Roman came tumbling after, Virgil’s arms around his waist dragging him on top of him as their lips refused to break.

And then they pressed closer, Roman rutting down as Virgil arched up into him, pulling at the other’s hair as he tried to lift his knee in order for Roman to instead rub against that.

But Roman pulled back, Virgil oblivious to his wishes and following his lips up a few inches before letting go and allowing himself to rest back against the couch cushions.

“Ro?” he asked, voice deep and breaths already staggered.

Roman bit his bottom lip, the sound of Virgil’s turned on voice unleashing something inside of him. “Do you want to?”

“Yes,” he breathlessly said, vigorously nodding to prove his point. The hand still in his hair moved to pull Roman back down but the other remained firmly above him, only just able to avoid temptation.

“I-”

“We don’t have to,” Virgil quickly said, sensual hands instantly turning soft, fingers innocently running through the other’s strands. He had let his hair grow out like a lacrosse lunatic, his curls starting to show. But to be fair, he was - a lax bro, that is - and the long stick resting beneath the tree proved just that.  _ I’m a lsm, long stick middie _ , he had told Virgil once, whatever the hell that meant.

“I want to,” he mumbled, eyes scanning Virgil’s face hesitantly.

“There’s nothing to be scared of,” Virgil mumbled, tucking a strand of hair behind Roman’s ear and moving up to kiss the tip of his nose, “we can go slow.”

“But you’ve never-”

“I know,” Virgil shrugged, hand moving down to Roman’s shoulder, finding the dead space of his chest to feel his rapidly beating heart. His smile was innocent despite what was the come, what he was offering.

“I don’t . . . I don’t know, Virge.”

“Let me blow you.” His own feverish notion he hadn’t meant to say aloud.

Roman froze, breath hitching and eyes darkening. “What?”

Virgil tried not to flinch, taking a deep breath before explaining, “Obviously you’re a bit apprehensive about actually doing it so um . . . I don’t see why not?”

Roman was silent for a moment, and it felt like an eternity before he leaned down to give Virgil a kiss. And in turn, he sighed against his lips, unaware that he was holding his breath.

Roman nodded, sitting up and pulling Virgil with him. “Yes,” he breathed out, voice deeper than it had been less than ten minutes before, two minutes before, “yes, okay.”

Virgil grinned, licking his lips as he stood up and grabbed Roman’s hand. The other joined him on his feet, starting towards the stairs before Virgil tugged at his arm. “No, your room is too close to your parents’.”

He was trying to sound casual, trying to keep his feet (until he inevitably dropped to his knees) despite the desire eating him alive. He needed to be steady for Roman so the other wouldn’t panic.

“Here?” Roman asked, a grin spreading across his lips as he eyed their scenery. A steady fire blazing and a tree in the rather luxuriously decorated living room would witness the act, it seemed.

“The angel atop of the tree will be scandalized” was his only reply, allowing for Virgil to guide him besides the fire and pull him back into a kiss. Benign at first, as most of their kisses always began, but after the initial spark, a fiery kiss burned their lips.

Roman clawed at Virgil’s clothes, managing to shed his shirt while keeping their lips locked and Virgil was fumbling with the buttons of Roman’s, half-tempted to rip it cleanly off but he knew he would be reprimanded for doing as much. It was a relief when he was able to slide the shirt off of his shoulders, letting it drop onto the floor and being sure to kick it away from the fire as the two stumbled backwards. Virgil pinned Roman to the wall, the picture frames above them shaking from the impact.

Roman groaned, masculine and low and perfect, as Virgil fell to his knees before him. His hands slipped into his hair as Virgil’s shook, lean fingers moving to undo his belt and unbutton his jeans. His eyes remained focused on the task at hand, cheeks red from embarrassment. He wouldn’t be able to look at Roman, especially knowing that the other couldn’t look away.

“Okay?” Roman asked as Virgil slowly unzipped him, asking before Virgil rattled his brains and rendered him impossible to speak.

“Yeah,” Virgil breathed, breath hot with the alcohol still on his tongue. He tugged down the jeans to Roman’s knees, letting them drop to his ankles on their own.

And there Roman was, the bastard apparently not decent enough to wear a pair of boxers. Virgil thought that by taking his time undressing him, he would be able to prepare himself. But they were skipping a step, it seemed, the tightening of Roman’s fingers in his hair saying as much.

“That’s why I could feel you more than usual tonight, huh?” Virgil teased, a curious finger moving to trace the head. Roman tensed, Virgil’s breath and touch already pushing him past tolerably hard. “Less layers between us.”

“The Christmas boxers you bought me are still in the wash, felt like I’d betray you to wear anything else,” Roman replied, a laugh managing to escape his lips. A groan followed when Virgil moved closer, breath hot against the other’s erection.

He didn’t feel like he needed to reply, too focused at the task at hand to.

Virgil took a breath, hand moving to wrap around the base of his boyfriend and start to lean in. He had no fucking clue what he was doing, but he would do his best. He allowed his tongue to part his lips, trailing it along the underside of his cock while his hand held Roman in place.

He shivered, hand instantly pulling at Virgil’s hair as the other moved up so he had something to bite down on. Virgil assumed that meant he was doing well, his lips leaving soft kisses spiraling from his fist to Roman’s tip. Pre-cum dribbled from out of him, Virgil taking a hesitant lick. Bitter, but the moan that escaped Roman’s lips was much more tasteful.

Roman tugged on his hair again, Virgil’s slow worship and exploration of the other’s dick good and all, but that wasn’t the end goal. Roman had grown harder from the teasing or foreplay or whatever it was called, and when Virgil studied him again, unsure if he would be able to take him all.

“Virge,” Roman whispered, hand momentarily leaving his mouth for the plea or command, neither knew which, to be voiced.

“I know,” he whispered, looking up with the most devious grin that Roman had ever seen across his lips before he wrapped himself around the head. Roman almost came then and there, hand returning to his mouth to smother his groans.

The situation was foreign to Virgil, and as he inched - not inched, that would imply he took more than a third of him on the first try - down his cock, he felt the desire to choke rapidly rise.

_ Don’t gag, don’t gag, don’t- _

“Good God,” Roman said, pulling Virgil off and tipping his chin up to see the tears in the corner of his eyes.

“I’m fine,” Virgil insisted, swatting Roman’s hand away and placing one hand firmly on his hip while the other returned to the base of his cock. He’d get more it was just . . . a fluke. He could do better, he  _ wanted _ to. And that should be enough to do just that.

So he wiped the saliva that had dribbled down his chin with his shoulder before leaning in to take him again. The first few inches were fine, but he struggled taking much more of him after that. Roman was thick and Virgil shuttered at the sudden thought of how he would instead feel inside of him rather than down his throat. It must be preferable if it was something men, and some women, adored so much. He would find out, he supposed, another day.

So he swallowed his pride as he relaxed his jaw and swallowed Roman down with it.

To Virgil’s surprise, Roman was the one that choked. His name muffled by his hand was a song of praise ringing in Virgil’s ears long after it was gone.

The animatronic angel atop of the tree continued to flap her wings and move her arms as Virgil began to move, bobbing his head in a way he hoped was good. And Roman took it, groaning in pleasure and toes curling from the most pleasurable feeling he had ever felt.

Roman’s hands in Virgil’s hair remained firm, barely refraining from forcing Virgil’s movements, but he needed to have control over something so he dropped the hand in his mouth and gripped the mantle of the fireplace, having to grit his teeth to stifle his moans.

Too good, too damn good.

And he told Virgil as much as the other continued to blow him, not always swallowing most of him down but it hardly mattered, it was more than enough. Better than his damn hand, that was for sure.

And Virgil, to his surprise, was enjoying himself as well. It wasn’t as horrible as some of the girls in his school claimed, his knees not yet sore and his throat far from feeling as though it was torn open. He dropped his hand from Roman’s hip in favor of slipping it into his trousers. He couldn’t help himself, and when Roman looked down to see him touching himself while blowing him, he nearly came.

Virgil smiled slightly, what little he could before Roman was back into his mouth forbidding any other movements. He glanced up, surprised to see his boyfriend so wrecked above him. He was gripping the mantle as if it were his lifeline, the grip on Virgil’s hair probably so light as to not hurt him. His head was tilted back and his lips were parted, chest rising and falling in unreliable breaths.

It was a sight Virgil would never forget as long as he lived.

He hollowed his cheeks, trying to suck him and Roman practically shrieked, tensing and coming down Virgil’s throat.

The other stayed in place, eyes closed and focused on taking him while his own hand sped up because a man coming down one’s throat apparently could do that.

Virgil’s name was a seemingly perpetual moan on Roman’s lips as he came, stopping after a few minutes and allowing the other to pull back as he took care of himself with his forehead pressed against the other’s mid-thigh. Roman ran his fingers through his hair gently, attempting to soothe the both of them when Virgil finally came.

Their breaths were labored, uncharacteristically out of sync. And it took a few minutes to compose themselves, Roman sliding down the wall to sit on the floor with his back still against the wall.

Virgil looked at him as Roman pulled him into his arms, allowing his head to settle against the crook of his neck.

“What about-”   


“Took care of it,” he mumbled, voice scratchy. With good reason, he thought.

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Virgil replied, smiling against the other’s warm skin that shone with sweat, “let’s call it a Christmas gift.”

“Well that beats what I got you, it was just a stupid candle and a sweatshirt,” Roman said, eyes suddenly opening and one hand moving to cover his mouth. “Oh fuck me, I made it so long without telling you.”

Virgil laughed against Roman’s skin, shaking his head as he moved a hand up to trace Roman’s abdomen, “Better than the last few years, yeah.”

And when Virgil glanced up, the look in Roman’s eyes was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen his entire life. An  _ I love you _ , not the first time, but clearly the most apparent.

In return, Virgil smiled back, nuzzling into his neck as the fire crackled besides them.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> hey guys!
> 
> whoa, it's really been a while, huh?
> 
> sorry about that, life gets in the way sometimes, you know? and as much as we love to write, sometimes it gets a little tricky. but the ideas seem to be flowing and you will (hopefully) be seeing some more content from us.
> 
> thank you for reading the first part of our 12 days of christmas challenge! we will be posting mons, tues, & fris until christmas, and then we will go back to our normal schedule (which at this point I don't think any of us know, but we'll try!!! that's what new year's resolutions are for)
> 
> -ronnie


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